


behind blue eyes;

by remylebabe



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Anxiety Disorder, Asexual Character, Community: xmen_firstkink, Fluff, I Don't Even Know, M/M, X-Men First Class Kink Meme, because in this au everyone's inherently good let me have my dream, how do people even tag, i guess based on the setting and the no powers everyone's kind of ooc i'm sORRY, oooh au where emma's just a bad influence and not in cahoots with shaw, so i guess that makes a mildly ooc emma frost??, that's like all the cliches in one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 22:06:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2523422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remylebabe/pseuds/remylebabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>charles is a barista with severe anxiety, erik is addicted to coffee, and everyone else plays matchmaker. fluff ensues.<br/>(this is a fill for a kink meme prompt that can be found <a href="http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/11912.html?thread=23423880#t23423880">here</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	behind blue eyes;

**Author's Note:**

> okay so this is my first time writing x-men fic so any commentary would be so appreciated <33  
> (charles' childhood is almost entirely of my own creation, given we know little about it on this earth. any extra details that are not of my creation are either based off this earth or earth-616)  
> chapters are probably not going to be that long and i'm sORRY

_No one knows what it’s like to be the bad man, to be the sad man…_  


Groaning, a sleepy Charles Xavier vaguely slammed his hand down in the direction of his alarm, and reluctantly began to push the covers off of himself. The air was brisk this morning, it was going to make walking to his job at the ‘Love-A-Latte’ even harder. Not that he disliked his job; that was. The pay could have been better and the name was cheesy as all hell, but he got to interact with people, which was nice. That is, it was nice until you factored in his damned _social ineptitude._ At a young age, Charles had been pressured into many social situations—while being astonishingly intelligent, he was also extremely shy, and his parents had always tried to change this.  


Between genetic misfiring and a feeling of inadequacy, his parents had just made things worse, and a nine-year-old Charles was inevitably diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Which, in most cases, wasn’t necessarily a death sentence, socially speaking. However, on top of everything else, Charles had gone so far into his shell, that when he was confronted with any sort of unfamiliar social situation, he absolutely clammed up – he’d go tongue tied, and barely be able to squeak out sentences like ‘May I take your order?’ Naturally, that wasn’t the worst of it; whenever he was confronted with a social situation in which he saw any sort of _potential_ for a relationship, whether romantic or platonic, he literally went dumb. Absolutely, completely, dumb. Couldn’t speak a word, not even a ‘hello.’  


In fact, it had taken him months to even utter a word to his co-workers; most of the translation of his silence was done by his sister, Raven. She was the only person he’d ever been able to open up to, or, really, talk to at all – ever since she’d come to live with his family, she’d served as an interpreter, a confidante, and anything else he needed. Without her, he probably would’ve been signed off as good for nothing but an asylum, as opposed to a student worthy of attending Oxford. For three degrees. (Okay, he was a bit of a genius. But, hell, it wasn’t that big of a deal.) The point was, he was kind of in Raven’s debt.  


Speaking of Raven, Charles was due to meet her outside of his dorm in ten minutes, so they could walk over to the café together. Swearing, the young man finally heaved himself out of bed, and hurriedly dressed in his work uniform – that is, until he couldn’t find his left shoe. (A five minute search would lead him to finding it under his bed, and praying that when he got back to his dorm, Logan wouldn’t kill him for all the noise he’d made. Logan was _not_ a morning person.) That aside, once his shoe was found, Charles grabbed his dorm key and darted downstairs, making it with—he paused to check his watch—ten seconds to spare.  


Winded and mildly frazzled but happy all the same, Charles waved his hello to Raven, and they linked arms. With that, the two made their way to the café, little words spoken between the two of them for, well, obvious reasons.  


Once at the ‘Love-A-Latte’, Charles unlinked arms with Raven, and went to store his coat in the back. Upon returning, he noted the café, as usual, was already a hub of activity – on cold days like this they let their customers in early (although they couldn’t order coffee until everything was ready.) Almost subconsciously he began to scan the customers more thoroughly, looking for—ah, there he was. Feeling his heart skip a beat and mentally cursing it for doing so, Charles took a moment to gaze at the man sitting in his usual chair in one corner, concentrated on filling out a paper of some sort. It was likely some sort of paper in German – while Charles didn’t know much about the man, he _did_ know the man was majoring in German. That, and that the man was so ridiculously hot the café suddenly seemed to be a sauna. Before Charles could get lost further in his thoughts, he felt a nudge in his side, and turned to the smirking face of one of his coworkers. Turning slightly flushed, he squeaked out **“Er. Hello, Emma.”**

Emma was one of his sister’s friends – or, so he thought. Sometimes they seemed closer than that, but Raven hadn’t told him anything yet, so he wasn’t going to presume. (Plus, she seemed like she wasn’t the best influence on his sister; she was keenly cunning and he often wondered if there were ulterior motives behind her friendship.) The woman mentioned grinned at him, and said **“Erik Lehnsherr, huh? I always suspected you were the strong but silent type. Fits your personality.”** With a laugh, she then walked away, off to turn the sign on the door from ‘closed’ to ‘open,’ leaving Charles to straighten up his posture and turn his gaze away from the man—no, he had a name now. _Erik._  


Once the sign was flipped, the customers came streaming into line, and Charles took a deep breath. He opened his mouth to speak, when… _oh shit._ The first customer today happened to be Erik—a slightly disheveled Erik, as if he’d only gotten a few hours to speak. Charles’ brain turned into white noise, and he began to attempt to vaguely form a sentence, until Raven noticed his struggle and darted over. **“He’s just really shy. I’m so sorry. May I take your order?”** Her air of professionalism was in place, leaving her to act opposite of her usual wise-cracking self, and Charles could tell it was killing her. Kneading at his lip with his top teeth guiltily, he listened as Erik responded **“Just a cup of black coffee.”**  


_Black coffee? Who drank black coffee anymore?_ Charles attempted to divert his thoughts by focusing on that utter _sin,_ but he kept going completely fuzzy in the brain. He knew it wasn’t just ‘You’re cute’ fuzz, either. It was ‘You’re cute and my anxiety is flaring up so badly I may vomit all over your perfect black turtleneck’ fuzz, and that was terribly aggravating. He was a _genius_ , for god’s sake, he should be able to talk to people. Not just Erik, people in general. (Although not being able to talk to Erik was _killing_ him right now, but that was another story.)  


Before he could even muster up the courage to even apologize, Raven had served Erik his coffee and he was gone, back to his table.


End file.
